brythonic paganism
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Swirling, twisting, dancing through the air, I fly on magpie’s wings, following the fall of feathers, black and brown, salted by the sea, an ocean raven on the wind. O’ Morfran, seen by few, honored by less, you call to me, a sea raven’s song upon the salty sea wind, and I fly towards what
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O’ Maponos, Mabon, he of many names. I sing my praises to you, Hailing all you bring and do, Forever more you have my heart, Leading me to a grand new start. Through dusk, Through dawn, you lead the way. To bring me to, another dawning day.
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O’ Sulis, Mistress of your waters, you bring me healing help, and soothe my soul, balming my aching bones, and providing me protection. To waters well worn, I shed skins of scorn, to lie amongst your waters warm.
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I gaze into the pool, clear and reflective, like a looking glass, mirroring myself back to me. Your hand rests ‘pon my shoulder, rugged fingers curling into my shirt. I rip my eyes from that watery looking glass, to your antler-crowned head. O’ Gwyn ap Nudd, White, son of Mist, you hold the looking glass,
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O’ God of Many Names, Apollo, Maponos, Mabon ap Modron, I call to you. Let your sun-dappled rays warm my form, filling my heart with fire, and bringing life to my pen, as I weave words in your praise.
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O’ Creiddlyad, Flower Maiden, you show me love is far more than just one. Sharing it, between Gwyn and Gwythir, showing me my love is immense. With your guidance, I embrace both my loves, holding them to my bosom, and cradling them safely.
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O’ Annwfn, the watery Otherworld, I am led to you, by hunting dogs and horns, led towards your watery depths. I step into your entrance, world shifting as I descend into the abyss, to come out into your sunlight. Gwyn, my Lord, leads my steps through your flowering fields, and I feel at peace.
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O’ Andraste, Winged goddess of Victory, you bring me towards success, carried on the wings of battle, facing my troubles with spear ready, and prepared to step forward into a new day. You shroud me in your wings, letting me mend from my strife, so I may face a new day, and carry on, spear
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O’ Lord of Annwn, your hounds bay in my heart, leading my soul towards a brighter day. Your strength inspires me, and your wisdom makes me wise. For it you who I write my prayers to, who embraced my broken heart, and helped piece it back together, like fine china restored. O’ Gwyn ap Nudd,
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Strings plucked, gentle chords played, O’ Maponos, son of Matrona, you pluck at the strings of my soul, shaping me into my future self. Guiding me past those who have left this world, and teaching me to listen to their songs. You are in my heart, o’ Great Harpist, and your song serenades me, filling
Little Rabbit's Glen 